In Which Tony Stark Is Enlightened
by NotSoHeterosexual
Summary: I DO NOT OWN AVENGERS OR ANY OF THE CHARACTERS. Ship: Stony. Plot: Tony does not deal with his sexual frustrations regarding a certain blonde super soldier. Possibly going to be a serious of Stony one shots, which could turn into Super family eventually.


"Cap."

The dark-haired, gruff man shook the other's shoulder none too gently.

"Captain."

His voice was strained, as if he was having trouble retaining his composure.

"Wake up."

Only this was Tony Stark. And Tony Stark did _not_ cry.

"I said wake up, dammit!"

He had trouble remembering that, though, as he gazed down at his blonde teammate and felt his throat close up.

". . ."

His eyes displayed just how broken he was on the inside, but no one else was there to see it; it was only him and Captain America in the hospital room, and the super soldier wasn't noticing much of anything right now.

From Tony's lips slipped a single word as he stared down at the non-responsive hero.

"Steve."

-! #$-

Tony woke with a groan, placing one hand strategically in the air to block that sunlight that was streaming in from his window. His eyes opened reluctantly, and the billionaire immeadiately noticed the woman who had yanked back the curtain. He noted the slim figure, her red hair.

"Pepper," Tony greeted wearily, slowly sitting up in his bed - the upright position caused his head to spin and the backs of his eyes to ache. He ran a hand down his face, blinking away the sleep in his eyes.

Pepper gave her boss a disapproving look. "Do you know what time it is?" she inquired calmly enough, but Tony knew Pepper well enough to tell that she was inwardly seething.

Tony's eyebrows shot up, and he forced himself to face the painful sun rays that were coming in through his window. The sun was high in the sky, and he felt himself frown. His gaze flicked to Pepper. "Why didn't you wake me up?" he demanded roughly. "I have-"

"You _had_," Pepper corrected, "a meeting two hours ago. I had it rescheduled."

"And why did you do that?" Tony's voice was dry and he gazed levelly at his ginger assistant.

"Look at yourself," Pepper said tersely. "You'll figure it out eventually." She brushed a few strange of hair out of her pale face. She turned on the heel of her black flats. "You have the whole day free. Get yourself together, okay?" She threw him a concerned look over one shoulder with the last sentence.

Tony watched Pepper leave his room and muttered something about cranky women under his breath - something that would have gotten him slapped if Pepper had heard, no doubt. He pulled back the sheets that were tangled around his legs. He stood and looked down at himself; he had just noticed that he'd fallen asleep in the clothes he'd worn the day before. He made a face, tugging on the sleeve of his black, wrinkled suit.

Tony curled his nose in distaste and made his way into his large, pristine bathroom. He studied his disheveled appearance in the mirror over his sink, the corners of his lips curling down into a scowl. His head throbbed; most likely, it was a side effect of both his exhaustion and the hangover he had from the alcohol he couldn't remember consuming last night (which is really saying a lot).

Tony heaved a heavy sigh, turning away from the mirror and stripping his clothes as he made his way to the shower. He stood inside for a moment, staring down at the arc reactor that lit the planes of his chest with its blue glow. He snapped out of whatever trance he was in quickly, shaking his head as if to clear it of the heavy thoughts that clouded his mind. He turned on the showerhead, cold water spraying him and jerking him awake. Once he was certain he wouldn't fall asleep in the shower, he switched the water to hot.

All of Tony's dreams had been like the one he'd been having before Pepper had woken him. It wasn't the exact same dream every time; not all were nightmares. In fact, some had been quite enjoyable. There was just one reoccurring theme in the dreams; Steve Rogers. Tony liked to call himself an "equal opportunity lover;" he was already aware that he was attracted to both men and women. That wasn't the problem. The problem was _Steve_.

Tony shut off his shower abruptly. He would not think about that, especially with no alcohol in his system. Just as he stepped out, towel wrapped around himself, Jarvis's voice caused Tony to blink in surprise.

"Sir, Steve Rogers is calling," Jarvis informed him.

Tony scowled. His first instinct was to ignore the call. In fact, he had opened his mouth to tell his AI to send Rogers to voicemail just about the same time that Jarvis had decided it could take the man's silence as permission to put Steve through. Tony pulled a face as he heard Steve's familiar voice.

"Tony?" Steve sounded uncertain, voice tinted with a slight hint of disbelief.

"That's me," Tony confirmed dryly. He was leaning against one of his chilly bathroom walls, staring down at the tiles beneath his feet. "Don't sound too shocked. I'm not dead just yet, Capsicle."

The frown was audible in Steve's voice. "I'm just surprised you answered," he said stiffly.

Tony snorted. "If you're trying to guilt me, it's not working," he snapped. It was total bull, though; the unfamiliar pang in his gut told him that Steve's tone had affected him in a way he wasn't used to - and he wasn't too eager to become familiar with. It caused his fingers to curl into his fists, anger at himself causing him to dig his nails into his palm - an attempt to keep his head clear. It was better than what he wanted to do at the moment, which was bash his head repeatedly against the wall he was using for support.

Steve was silent for a moment. "Tony, you haven't even looked at me for a week," he said, and his voice was so calm that Tony felt his stomach clench. "I think I'm allowed to be a little surprised."

Tony didn't say anything for a moment. He ran a hand through his damp hair. "Why did you call?" he asked wearily.

Steve's voice sounded more like the voice Tony was used to hearing. "Riley and I-" The grown man was cut off by a loud, obnoxious female voice shouting "HELLO IRON ASS!" in the background. Steve continued without missing a beat; the only sign the super soldier had heard the woman was the amused undertone to his voice. "-bought donuts. Riley said to call you. She said you either eat them or, uh . . . She does something that sounds physically impossible to you with them."

Tony forced a smile even though the two couldn't see it - it was out of habit, because forcing a smile for himself was a bit inane. "Sounds like her." He rubbed his temples, frowning once more. "I'll be downstairs in ten minutes." He heard a click as Steve hung up and glared up at his ceiling. "Jarvis, only answer the phone when I tell you to," he snapped. He didn't listen to the AI's answer, choosing to ignore it as he got ready.

Eight minutes later, Tony smelled - and looked - great (and a lot more like the Tony people were used to seeing). He felt the exactly the opposite, but he pushed that away; instead, he headed to his kitchen with his usual arrogant swagger. As he walked into it, he nearly tripped over Thor, who hissed up at him and darted out of the room.

Someone laughed, and Tony's gaze snapped up to the source of the noise. It was Riley Warren; the twenty-five year old was a SHIELD agent who had moved into his tower after her cat had infested it with kittens. Her hair was a shock of bright red, and she grinned at him from the countertop she was perched on. Beside her sat a box of doughnuts.

For a moment, Tony only gazed at Riley; her outfit had sparked some confusion in him. Normally, Riley wore casual or running clothes - there was, he had thought, no exceptions to this rule. Today, however, she had broken this unsaid rule; she was very, very dressed up. She had black, tall heels on her feet. She was wearing a dress, too; this almost overwhelmed the metaphorical hard drives in his brain. This made him realize that he'd stopped thinking of Riley as a woman; the tight black fabric accented every feminine curve to her body, making it extremely obvious that she was, in fact, female.

Riley noticed his gawking and snickered childishly. "Excuse me, sir, I think your jaw's on the floor," she taunted.

Steve suddenly popped up from behind one of the kitchen's islands, a white kitten in his hands. He had blonde hair, a sharp and attractive face. A thick, well-muscled torso led his broad shoulders to his narrow hips. His ass was round and an almost perfect orb; as he walked past Riley, the agent mime-groped the oblivious Avenger.

Steve sat the kitten in the doorway of the kitchen, murmuring something to it before nudging it after its mother. When the kitten scampered off, he stood and walked over the counter Riley was perched on. He sat down on one of the barstools, pulling a glazed donut from the box and methodically ripping it into smaller pieces that he popped in his mouth.

Tony went to the opposite side of the counter, refusing to look at Steve as he picked up a doughnut and took an overly dramatic bite while giving Riley a pointed look.

Riley nodded her approval and dropped down from the counter. She tugged down her rather short dress and waved over her shoulder as she began to walk out. "Play nice," she threw over her shoulder, along with a wink, before slipping out of sight.

Steve stared down at the half-eaten doughnut that he carefully held with his fingertips, the corners of his lips tugging down into a light frown. He looked up at Tony through his pale lashes, feeling his stomach clench when he all he saw that the man had pointedly turned away from him. He stared at Tony's back for a moment and then dropped his doughnut back into the box before pushing the rectangular box to the side. He took a small breath as if he was steeling his nerves (which, normally, were made of steel). "Tony."

The sharp, demanding way Steve said his name had the Stark turning around before his mind could fully process the word, taking the last bite of his doughnut and wiping his fingers on his pant legs. Then he laced his fingers together, resting them on the counter. He arched his brows. "What is it, Cap?" he responded mildly.

Steve squared his broad shoulders as if he was preparing to go into battle. "Why have you been ignoring me?"

Tony opened his mouth to protest. "I h-" he started, but Steve immeadiately cut him off.

"This is the first time you've said a word to me in a week." Steve gave a dry, amused huff. "It might be the first time you've even_ looked_ at me."

Tony scowled. "I've been busy," he defended gruffly. "No need to get your little star-spangled panties in a twist."

Steve's forehead crinkled as his eyebrows drew together. "I'm not-. Okay, I'm angry," he relented. "At first, I was just mad at myself."

"You're mad at _me_ now, though?"

Steve nodded, resisting the urge to drop his eyes. "I must have done something to make you mad, but you aren't telling me _what_ I did," he explained tensely, holding Tony's gaze the whole time.

Tony scowled. "You didn't do anything! I just . . ." He huffed, eyes narrowing. "Forget it," he snapped, moving to turn away from the infuriatingly gorgeous blonde man staring back at him with eyes that had seemed to fill his every single _fucking_ thought since he'd met the super-soldier. When he turned, however, he merely met a solid wall of muscle. Tony blinked and looked up slightly to see Steve standing in front of him, arms crossed.

"What, Tony?" Steve demanded. "Do you hate me? Do you want me to leave?" He bit his lip, struggling to keep hurt from tinting his voice. "Then tell me. But stop . . . stop ignoring me."

Tony's eyebrows shot up. "Oh, is little Capsicle upset I haven't been paying attention to him?" he inquired. He knew it wasn't really time for jokes, but that was all Tony had to come back to.

Steve's cheeks suddenly turned a bright pink and he stayed stubbornly silent.

Tony gave a dry, humorless laugh. "You don't want my attention, Cap. No one does. I'm an egotistical asshole," he retorted.

Steve shook his head slightly, eyes dropping slightly, unable to meet Tony's gaze. "That's not true."

Tony snorted. "Fine then, Cap. Prove it. Prove that you want my attention," he challenged icily.

Steve was silent for a moment, lips pressed into a thin line, and in that moment Tony felt his heart drop. He was certain he'd ruined it, that Steve would tell him exactly what he feared - that Steve really did hate Tony, that he didn't care. The exact opposite, however, happened. Steve's lips met Tony's in a messy but passionate kiss. The genius felt the counter press into his back but couldn't pay attention to that - his mind was on other things.

Like Steve's lips moving against his like it was the most natural thing in the world; Tony hadn't even realized he was kissing the other man back before he'd felt a lip underneath his tongue. Steve pressed himself closer, taking Tony's face in both hands and pulling him closer. Tony's hands went to Steve's hips and clutched at the fabric there, the useless fabric that he wanted to rip off. His tongue slipped into Steve's mouth, brushing against his tongue; this made Steve shudder and Tony grin.

One of Tony's hands just happened to make its way to Steve's ass; Steve pulled away with flushed cheeks and eyes that he fluttered open, probably to tell Tony to stop groping him. His words caught in his throat as he felt Tony's lips brushing against his neck, teeth nipping at the skin. "T-Tony," Steve stammered, feeling his cheeks darken.

"Yes, Steve?" Tony breathed against the man's neck, the hand that wasn't on Steve's ass sliding up the man's shirt. His fingertips brushed muscle and soft skin.

"W-We shouldn't . . . h-here." Again, with the stuttering, something Steve was almost certain he had never done before in his life. It was hard not to though, with his breathing erratic and heart thumping away in his chest.

Tony grinned, both of his hands going to loop his fingers through the belt loops of Roger's pants. He pulled the man's hips to his, removing his lips from Steve's neck so he could gaze at Steve deviously. "I figure your first time can be in a proper bed, if you insist," he murmured.


End file.
